


I always get what I want, Mr. Argent

by marguerite_26



Series: my mating games ficlets and drabbles [9]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Older Man/Younger Woman, Seduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2018-01-25 22:40:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1665128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marguerite_26/pseuds/marguerite_26
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was sure most girls her age packed for a sleepover with their best friend in a much less analytical fashion. It was likely they'd pop on some music and grab their favorite nightwear, some makeup, maybe a book, and be done with it. </p><p>Most girls didn't have a best friend whose father looked like Chris Argent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I always get what I want, Mr. Argent

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to otta_ff for beta reading.
> 
> This was written for the Mating Games week 2 bonus: Sleepovers.

Lydia lay on her bed staring into her closet, her eyes flitting over the rainbow of outfits she had to choose from. She took her time, weighed her options carefully, imaging each outfit against each scenario she may be presented with that evening. 

She was sure most girls her age packed for a sleepover with their best friend in a much less analytical fashion. It was likely they'd pop on some music and grab their favorite nightwear, some makeup, maybe a book, and be done with it. 

Most girls didn't have a best friend whose father looked like Chris Argent. 

Throughout the summer she'd spent every Friday and Saturday night at Allison's house: an excuse to let Lydia's mother drive up to their beach house with her new boyfriend. And Lydia loved Allison. She really, really did. Allison truly was her best friend and one of the few people in the world Lydia actually _admired_.

But that didn't mean she didn't have an ulterior motive. 

That didn't stop her from carefully choosing her pajamas so when she sauntered into the living room after midnight, catching Mr. Argent watching a late night movie, she'd be irresistible. 

A peach cotton nightie caught her eye. It was simple enough to not look like she was trying too hard, but the cut was flattering and short enough to give a teasing glimpse of her panties when she stretched. 

Besides, the deep V reminded Lydia of the first time Mr. Argent had looked at her, _really_ looked at her. Mr. Argent was not the sort to blush, not with his thigh holster and his shooting range in the basement. His hands were calloused and his eyes world-wary. He was nothing like the teachers who turned red and turned away when she stalked into a classroom in a particularly daring outfit. 

Mr. Argent just _looked_. He took in the sight of her from head to toe and met her eye with quiet admiration and a bit of amusement, like he knew she quite enjoyed being appreciated. 

That summer gave her many opportunities to let him appreciate, between trips to the beach and sleep-rumpled breakfasts. At each, Allison was a constant presence, keeping the tension for spilling over into something more. By August, Lydia was a ball of frustration; Mr. Argent's hungry eyes as he watched Allison slather Lydia with sunblock by the pool told her she wasn't alone.

Lydia carefully folded the soft peach nightie and stuffed it into her bag beside her other things.

Tonight, Allison was sneaking out to meet Scott and Lydia had graciously agreed to stay over. It would be the perfect cover, Allison had figured: when Lydia stayed over, her father didn't do his nightly check. Lydia hadn't argued.

It was a perfect plan. With Allison out of the house, Lydia had no intention of spending the night alone.

\--

"Thank you for coming!" Allison exclaimed as she answered the door, dragging Lydia into a hug.

"You know I love staying the night here." Lydia held her tight while her eyes looked beyond the doorway to Mr. Argent who stood at the end of the corridor watching them. 

They went about their usual routine, dinner and TV, then up to Allison's room by ten, with a wave and an air kiss from both of them, wishing Mr. Argent a goodnight.

"Are you sure?" Allison asked for what had to be the tenth time.

"Allison! Go." Lydia laughed, pushing her towards the window. "I'll be fine. I have some translation to do anyway. You always interrupt."

Allison grinned, eyes sparkling in that way they did when people were particularly kind to her. "You're the best." 

"I know." Lydia opened her notebook, putting an end to Allison's guilt.

In the next second, Allison disappeared into the shadows of the roof. A soft thunk said she landed her front flip to the driveway perfectly.

\--

Lydia waited until just after midnight. 

Since her mother died, Allison often complained of her father's weekend routine: how he'd sit in the dark and watch old movies with a decanter of whiskey until he was numb enough to sleep. She worried a lot about her father's loneliness, especially on these quiet nights. 

If Lydia were less a realist, she'd call what she was about to do charity.

She found Mr. Argent exactly where she knew he'd be, in the den, half-drunk with heavy-lidded eyes, barely watching the muffled, too low TV.

"I couldn't sleep," she announced, quiet enough not to startle him from his daze. 

He blinked up at her, dragging his eyes over her chest more slowly than he usually dared. She wondered if the glow from the screen was making her nightie transparent enough for him to see the outline of her breasts.

"Lydia."

"Mr. Argent." She sat, letting her nightie flare with the movement. His eyes tracked her, widening for a moment, most likely at the quick glimpse of her panties. "Mind if I join you?"

"This isn't a good idea." His voice was thick with drink, and less gruff than his usual tone of someone who does not like to be toyed with. She immediately knew neither of them were going to pretend they didn't know why she was here.

Placing a finger on his lips, Lydia shushed him. "Allison's asleep, and I'm not a little girl. And we both want this." Catching him about to reply, she traced his mouth with her fingertips, the same path she wanted her tongue follow. "I always get what I want, Mr. Argent."

"I don't." The words weren't petulant, not like Jackson would have said them. It was more an observation, maybe a warning. He took a long drink of his tumbler and set it aside. 

"Then let tonight break that tradition." She'd often been told her face had a stubborn look when it was too late to talk her out of something, and she knew she was wearing it now. She'd planned on something more subtle, a soft seduction and sweet words. 

Instead, Mr. Argent watched the jut of her jaw with a kind of fascination that was all the invitation she needed to straddled him.

"I thought you were smarter than this, Lydia," he said, but his hands fell to her hips, as though it were instinctive. Their tight grip stole a gasp from her. 

"This is the best idea I've had all summer, Mr. Argent." She rocked her hips, rubbing her wet clit against the bulge in his jeans. "And trust me when I say I've had some brilliant ones."

His lips quirked at that, a soft exhale of a laugh following. He wasn't pushing her off. She let her eyes shut and her hands wander, exploring the taut muscles beneath his shirt. She could feel his every response, from the hardening of his cock between her legs to the tension in his shoulders as he tried to stay in control. She felt dizzy with the power of it.

"You aren't told no very often are you?"

She opened her eyes, shaking her hair out so it fell over her shoulders and a stray lock tickled his open collar as she leaned in. "Are you going to be one of the first?"

"No," he said, and he slipped a hand between her legs, hooking her panties to the side so he could press a finger inside her. 

His breath hitched as he found her slick, and again as she tilted her hips to sink his finger deeper. She was already so hot, her body responsive and ready from the weeks of teasing and the fantasies she had built up in her head. 

"I'm not even going to make you work for it," she said, reaching for his zipper. "Not tonight, at least." 

She thought he might argue, but his eyes were glassy and amused, and he lifted his hips as she worked his pants open and down. There was no opposition, no resignation. He was letting her take charge, making her responsible. Then again, he always seemed to prefer women to make his decisions for him.

Lydia could handle that. 

He was big, bigger than Jackson or Aiden -- bigger than Conner, whose last name escaped her but who had performed well enough in the custodian's closet before school ended that she might have to learn it. 

She held Mr. Argent's cock in her hand a moment, stroking it up and down, learning the feel of it as it grew harder in her palm. It only took a few pumps to get him completely stiff and she was thankful she'd caught him before he'd drank too much. 

The tip alone was a tight fit as she sank down on the swollen head, enough that it stole her breath for a moment, before she forced herself to relax. She took it slow, slower than she usually liked, but he had her stretched wider than she'd ever experienced. 

Mr. Argent was patient, staring at her, unflinching and without guilt, as she worked her hips to take him to the root.

She was trembling, not able to move for a moment, resting her forehead on Mr. Agent's shoulder. The moment drew out, the sensation of his impressive girth consuming everything else. His hands were feather light on her waist as though if he held her any tighter he'd lose control; she was grateful he didn't. 

The TV in the background was a muffled sound of dialogue she couldn't follow, but it was distraction enough to help her refocus. With a deep breath, she shifted. It was great choice. She was slick enough so that the move was easy and comfortable, letting her hit a good angle. 

The grip on her waist tightened as she began to move. He didn't rush her. He let her set the pace, the angle, giving her soft words of encouragement that never seemed to come naturally to a teenage boy. 

"Beautiful," he said, and kissed her for the first time, the rough scrape of stubble making her lips tender. 

His piercing blue eyes never leaving hers, he cupped her breasts, lifting and holding them inside her nightie like there was nothing better than the weight of them in his hands.

"Do you want me naked?" She hated at how vulnerable it came out, but he was unsettling in his quiet worship and it was throwing her off.

He grinned. "You are perfect just like this." He leaned back against the couch, as though he was memorizing the image of her riding him, both of them almost fully dressed. She wondered if she was playing out his fantasy as well as her own.

Her thighs ached as they rode the edges of orgasm, not quite there, not quite willing for this to be over, for either of them. He slid his hands forward, his thumbs dipping into her stretched, wet panties and finding her clit. He worked his thumbs in unison, rubbing concentric circles on either side of her clit until she arched into his hands, choking on her own scream as she came. 

His hips jerked up, slamming into her, no longer gentle. He pinned her hips down, burying himself deep as she clenched around him and he poured himself into her. She collapsed onto him, hiding her face in his neck and losing herself in the scent of his aftershave and the feel of his come dribbling down her thighs.

He held her, kissing her forehead until her legs began to cramp and she climbed off him, wincing at the ache.

Once she'd calmed and her legs stopped trembling enough to walk again, she stood to leave. 

Mr. Argent picked up his drink from the coffee table and turned back to the movie he hadn't really been watching earlier. "Next time Allison sneaks off to see Scott," he said, "you don't need to wait until I'm nearly drunk before coming down to seduce me."

A soft, pleased smile played on his lips.

Lydia felt a thrill, knowing this would happen again, and knowing that smile belonged to her alone.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [marguerite26](http://marguerite26.tumblr.com/) on tumblr. Hi.


End file.
